Novel & Cerita Owl House Evelyn

In the end, all that’s left is a single word, spoken soft but certain. Witch. In Raven Hollow, that’s always been enough. Evelyn grew up at the edge of town, in a weathered old house tangled with ivy and wild roses. It belonged to her grandmother, and her grandmother before that. Every room still holds pieces of their handwritten journals on the shelves, herbs drying from the rafters, faded portraits watching from the corners. Her childhood was always a contradiction. She was a Blackwood, so she belonged here. She was a witch, so she never really did.

“Oliver has been a huge support in my life more than you ever have, so just because I'm keeping quiet doesn't mean you should mistake my silence for foolishness.” “But that's exactly what this... rendezvous of yours is. Absurdity in the highest order, and I can't stand by and idly watch my daughter make a fool of herself!” he spat, tossing a newspaper onto the table. The headline read: AFTER DESTROYING CASSANDRA MILLS' HOUSEHOLD, EVELYN LAURENT APPEARS EIGHT YEARS LATER IN A HOSPITAL, HAPPILY IN LOVE WITH A NEW MAN. The image that followed the headline showed pictures of Evelyn and me from last week at the hospital. Picking up the newspaper, Evelyn raked her gaze over the headline and then t

Her eyes flicked to Olivia, and my own eyebrows shot up. “She’s that bad, huh?” “She shows up every year and derails the whole thing by yapping about her travels and designer clothes,” Evelyn snorted. She paused then, looking me up and down. “But you… I hear you’re Elijah’s new wife. And I hear you’ve been making waves already.”

“You want proof? Fine. Years ago, after the fire, I found someone—a survivor who claimed to have seen something that night.” I arched an eyebrow, refusing to be swayed by her theatrics. “What kind of survivor?” I demanded. Evelyn leaned forward slightly, as if preparing to share a deep, dark secret. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, her tone dripping with faux sincerity. “A maid,” she said, her eyes narrowing as though the word alone would strike fear into my heart. “She worked in the eastern wing, near your father’s quarters. That night, she claimed she saw a shadow—a tall, dark figure—moving quickly past your father’s bedroom just before the flames consumed everything.”

“You’re right. My apologies.” Inside, Evelina clenched her fist. Is this how you seduced women back then, Hunter? Too bad for you—this time, the woman isn’t the weak Olivia Grace. She is Evelina Willson—and she will be your worst nightmare. That night, in her modest apartment, Evelina opened a secret drawer and pulled out a photo of Eliana. The little girl was now ten years old. Her sweet smile hadn’t changed. But Olivia knew… that smile was fake. Forced.